


third time's the charm

by pineovercoat



Series: Master Riku (or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Consume the Darkness, Return it to Light) [2]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: (that i made up), Character Study, Fairy Tale Logic, Gen, Introspection, KH3 spoilers, Keyblade Lore, Missing Scene, Video Game Mechanics as Plot Device, lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 18:52:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19046323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pineovercoat/pseuds/pineovercoat
Summary: The same determination he’d felt in the Realm of Darkness filled him, that fearlessness in the face of certain danger. The feeling flowed from him to the blade and back again, building up to a crescendo that sang through him like struck steel.Is this what you wanted?that song challenged.Is this who you are?





	third time's the charm

It was like the punchline to a bad joke: dawn, finally breaking over a lonely shore.

Riku would have laughed, maybe, if the whole thing didn’t make him feel so unmoored.

Duty had been a welcome distraction from the storm of feelings that followed him after being defeated by the Demon Tide. First there was the business they had with Ienzo and the other apprentices, then the whirlwind of Sora’s call, and the leads they had on the search for Terra, too. But now, as he searched for equilibrium inside Merlin’s small study, at the King’s right side, there was nothing to do but think.

It would have been one thing to come back after their search without Aqua. The Realm of Darkness was vast, and if he was being honest with himself, it would have been nothing short of a miracle to find her on their first foray into its bounds.

It was another thing entirely to come back quite literally empty-handed.

At the time, leaving his keyblade behind had felt like the right thing to do. Something deep inside of him told him that it couldn’t be repaired, not for him. That there was someone else who could be better served by it. Now, it gave him pause.

He tried to tell himself it wasn’t a sign of anything- Mickey’s keyblade had been damaged too, after all, though not broken like his own. But even in the firelit warmth of Merlin’s cottage, a world and a lifetime away, it was difficult to forget just how powerful the darkness had been. How all-consuming. How lonely.

If it wasn’t some kind of omen, then what was it? After everything they’d been through together- after all the mistakes he’d made, a year in the shadows, trapped in a prison of his own making, after the Organization and Xemnas and the Realm of Darkness and coming home, after enduring and overcoming his exam and finally proving to himself that none of this had been an accident, that the road he walked wasn’t one he stumbled onto blindly- after all of that, his keyblade had broken so easily.

_You’re a Master_ , Riku reminded himself, holding onto that fact like a lifeline. He had the Mark, he knew that now, and that wasn’t something any swarm of Heartless could take from him. Ultimately, one defeat was nothing. He’d made it out to fight another day.

But still, a Keyblade Master without a keyblade…. It was hard not to wonder. Even so, he kept his back straight and his head high, watching Merlin as he looked over the fractured keyblade in Mickey’s hands.

“This one will require some materials, and not a little bit of magic,” the wizard said, assessing Starseeker with a thoughtful hum. “But I have just the thing! Worry not! I don’t imagine the repair work should take up too much more of your time, Your Majesty.”

Mickey sighed gratefully. “That’s wonderful news, Merlin.”

Riku felt his shoulders loosen at the King’s visible relief. His breath whooshed out in a sigh. Merlin turned to him, blinking rapidly, as if he’d only just noticed his presence.

“Ah!” he said. “Yes, yes, young Riku. As for _you_ , my boy- a _new_ keyblade! That is a different matter entirely!” He peered at him over his glasses, frowning deeply. “I understand the circumstances under which you received your first were most unconventional?”

_Second_ , Riku corrected silently. Third? He pressed his lips together. No, the Keyblade of Heart hadn’t been his, not the way the others were. But that was neither here nor there. He’d never put too much thought into how the Kingdom Key and the Way to the Dawn had come to him, besides the obvious. First, the stranger he’d met as a boy had promised him a key, and then, the weapon Maleficent had bestowed on him changed, and that was that.

Maybe the lack of concern had been an oversight on his part. He gave Merlin a tight nod. _Unconventional_ was right- so then, what did convention look like?

Merlin cleared his throat. “Now, acquiring another is both like and unlike anything you’ve ever done--” He cut himself off, his great white eyebrows pinching together as he thought. “Hm. Perhaps it is best described as a journey, although I’m afraid it is one you must undertake alone.”

“Figured as much,” Riku answered, taking a moment to shoot a glance at the King. He nodded back, a reassuring smile on his face. The vote of confidence was steadying. Riku set his shoulders, hands tightening into fists at his sides as he readied himself. “So, what do I have to do?”

Merlin straightened, and a curious sort of gravity settled over the room as he drew himself up to his full height. When he spoke, his voice was heavy with something Riku couldn’t quite place. If pressed, he’d call it ceremony.

“Master Riku,” he said. “His Majesty tells me you’re familiar with the Power of Waking…?”

-

It was a long way down to his heart.

Riku forced himself to keep his eyes open as he passed through space, through shadow, through memory. Nothing to it, he told himself, even as he remembered how close he’d come to the abyss the last time he’d done this, how perilous the descent through the dreamy dark of that realm between had been then.

In truth, he couldn’t tell how long he’d been falling, if the drop lasted only seconds, or if an eternity had passed. All he knew was that the flickering orange light of Merlin’s cottage was like a distant memory of a past life, pale and faded, by the time his feet met solid ground again.

He landed lightly, taking in the sheer vastness of the endless darkness around him, and the tight confines of the platform beneath, all of its light and glowing color. That same darkness settled over him like the cool touch of a blindfold, like it had both weight and no qualms using that leverage to keep him in place.

It was like Merlin said- both like and unlike what he’d already done in his exam. But then, it made sense that a dive to the heart worked a little differently when it was your _own_ heart you were trying to reach. It was a small comfort that the feeling of the fall, at least, was something he knew well.

Funny how the territory wasn’t.

Familiar and unfamiliar in turns- Riku allowed himself a full three-sixty, wondering at the eerie silence of it all, and the unsettling feeling of knowledge just beyond his grasp that went with it. Like there was something on the tip of his tongue- almost, almost, almost. He breathed out, and the sound echoed into eternity.

It was a strange place. Stranger still, the knowledge of where and what it was. He rallied himself against the surrealness of it all, jaw set tight. Could your own heart really be that much of a mystery to you? He supposed so.

Of all the curiosities, the strangest thing of all was how it was so quiet- until it wasn’t. Like a roll of thunder, herald to a storm, words filled his head- yet he couldn’t hear them, couldn’t recall the sound of the voice that spoke them.

_What is it that you seek?_

A question. Of course. It seemed to him that someone was always making him decide on one thing or another. He swept his gaze first upwards, then all around, looking for its source. When that turned up nothing but dead air, he let out a resigned sigh, and meditated on the question put to him.

Questions had defined so much of his life lately. Questions meant decisions, and paths, and _commitment_. His own fate, and so many others, too _,_ all hinging on _choice,_ and what exactly he planned to do with that particular power. Give him a swarm of Heartless any day- a fight, an enemy, a clear cut goal. Answers, though- answers were another thing altogether.

What did he seek?

That much was obvious. His thoughts went to the Realm of Darkness, to his broken keyblade embedded in the sand. Aqua was still lost. Terra was missing. There were battles ahead- the final battle between light and dark, if Xehanort’s schemes went to plan. To do his part, to stand with the rest as a Guardian of Light, he needed a weapon, needed something that would allow him to channel his strength for a greater purpose.

Though, he admitted to himself silently, once, he would have said _power_.

As soon as he thought the word, it shook the air, echoing as it filled the world with its awful reverberations. Riku was halfway to covering his ears, wincing at the sudden pain of it, but he regained his composure and made himself listen. The truth could be painful, he reminded himself. There was a lesson to be learned here.

Power.

He was no stranger to the thrill of it, or the temptation. The rush was unlike anything else- the ability to call on the darkness, to command it and traverse it. It was something else, that feeling, like if he only let it in, his heart could overcome anything and _anyone_ that stood in the way of what he’d wanted-

_The Keyblade,_ Xehanort’s voice mocked him, rising from the darkest depths of his heart, _your prize_ -

Riku shook his head, standing his ground even as the memories and the shame burned through him. The Kingdom Key wasn’t his. It didn’t belong to him or with him. Maybe it could have, once upon a time, but he left that path behind him a long time ago. He walked one of his own choosing now.

“I don’t want that,” he said, staring down the darkness. His voice echoed too, coming back to him stronger than the lingering note that still sang _power, power, power_.

Not power. Not glory. Not greatness. When it came down to it, he’d only ever looked to distant horizons as a way of seeking out strength, and had only ever wanted to use that strength as a tool, as a shield, to _protect._ He’d sworn it once, a child’s oath on a hero’s blade, like something out of a story.

_“_ Maybe I did once,” he confessed. “But not anymore. I lost my way. But in the end, I made it back. I kept my promise.”

_Promise, promise, promise_ , the darkness repeated back.

“I know the path,” Riku said. He drew himself up straight, speaking right into the heart of the silence, his voice steady and clear. “All I ask is the strength to walk it.”

It must have been the right answer. The air around him was less weighted, somehow, in the wake of it. There was no time to enjoy the victory, though. With one question answered, the peculiar not-voice wasted no time in moving on to the next.

_What is it that you fear?_

Riku considered that.

Though he would never have confessed to it, once, the answer had been darkness.

It was in the darkness that he’d lost control, lost himself. There, he’d learned a stunning capacity for jealousy, and hatred, and misery. Wandering lost in its realm, he’d found a loneliness that seeped into his bones. Despair, regret, and grief weren’t too far behind.

Maybe that was why he’d chased sunrise for so long. Everything seemed less frightening in the light of day.

Like the very thought summoned it, a gleam pulsed up from the platform below, ebbing and flowing like sunlight over the ocean on a clear summer’s day. He closed his eyes and breathed, imagining what it would be like to have that glow sink inside of his skin and fill him until he was overflowing, until the truth of it was undeniable, pouring out of him; _light_.  

But then, he realized, breath catching in his throat, it already was. This was his own heart, wasn’t it? This light was his, and you didn’t need what you already had. No sense in running when you were already there. His mind raced, realization after realization humbling him as relentlessly as the Demon Tide.

The Way to the Dawn, while a good friend, steadfast and loyal, was never meant to see him through to the end. Riku might have known that by its name. He glanced down at his loose, open palms, haloed in brilliance. Despite all Xehanort’s prophesying in the Sleeping Realms, he didn’t plan on wandering for the rest of his days.

After the skirmish in the Realm of Darkness, he’d heard a voice. It was something deep inside of him, telling him to leave the broken blade behind on that hazy, eerie beach. He understood it now. It was true that there was someone out there who still needed dawn’s guiding light, but that someone wasn’t him. Not now. Not anymore.

He had his own.

The darkness was his now, like his past, like his mistakes and failures- but like his triumphs, too. Like his light. Doubt was a persistent shadow, sure. He even suspected it would remain with him forever, but that was alright. Light and dark went hand in hand; courage and fear were the same. There was no terror for him in the dark, not when he knew how to wield it for good, how to return it to light.

So, then, if not the dark, then what?

He still carried fear, that was for sure. But it wasn’t for what might happen to _him,_ no. More than anything, he didn’t want to lose what he held dear.

As if it had heard his thoughts, the voice spoke again.

_What is it that you cherish?_

Riku smiled, emboldened. This one was the easiest of them all. Ventus had asked him the same thing before, when he’d made the dive to Sora’s heart. His answer remained unchanged- _my close friends._

_So long as you champion the ones that you love,_ another voice whispered, calling from across the years to remind him of the oath he’d made. If he reached out, it was almost like his hand was on the hilt of that keyblade again. Sturdy, solid, strong- he felt the ghost of it under his palm, everything it represented, everything it ever meant, all tied up in those three simple questions.

The whole world hummed in anticipation, witness to his next steps.

Resolved, Riku wet his lips, and spoke.

“All my life, I wanted to be strong,” he said, stating his case to the silence. “I knew that the strength I needed was out there somewhere. And because of that, I knew that even if the journey took me far away from home, it was important to see it through to the end. Now I know it was here all along.” He laid a hand over his heart. “It always has been.”

All was still, and for a moment, Riku felt foolish. He pressed his lips together, wondering if his words even meant anything, if they were falling on deaf ears, but then the light flared gently, as if reassuring him. Taking heart, he went on.

“There are people out there who’ve helped me, who saved me, who never gave up on me. Now they need me. And it’s not just them- it’s all the worlds, too. If I can fight for them, I will. I’ll use every bit of my strength. But to do that...” He raised his chin bravely. “I need help.”

It wasn’t weakness to admit it. Sora was right- he did do too much on his own. Riku felt lighter just thinking it. That levity spilled out into the world around him, brightening it by degrees. He felt like he was flying again, even though his feet were on the ground.

_You’ll have it. Reach out._

He obeyed, closing his eyes as he reached out not only with his hand, but with his heart.

A note chimed in the silence, shimmering and clear. It resonated through his chest, building higher and higher until it was a cacophony of sound. He felt that radiance inside of him, the one he’d imagined pouring into and out of him, rise to answer it.

It was too much to bear. Breathless, he bent double, pressing his hand to his chest like he could hold the fracturing pieces of himself together with the strength of his will alone. Then, suddenly, he understood. He would be fine. He’d face worse than this, and overcome it too, if he wanted to be a Guardian.

With a nod, he let go.

Light and dark and a heat like fire gathered under his palm. They grew in strength as he cracked apart, covering everything in horrifying brilliance, blue-bright and night sky battling so fiercely before him that he had to fight to keep his eyes as wide-open as his heart. Somehow, miraculously, he did.

He stood transfixed as the war raged on with all the violence of a meteor as it streaked across the sky. Stardust rained down all around him, whirling in a maelstrom that centered itself before him. His hair whipped into his eyes, and light and dark lashed at his skin, pulling him, fierce as any hurricane.

Swallowing roughly, Riku remembered what the voice told him. _Reach out_.

Unafraid, he planted his feet and thrust his arm out, striking forward at the heart of the storm. For all its apparent fury, it passed over him, harmless as a breeze, and when the dust settled, there was a solid weight in his right hand.

It was a keyblade, and one unlike any he’d ever seen. It looked more like a broadsword than anything, like something that belonged to a fairytale knight- black and silver and beautiful.

Perfectly balanced, too, he admired, his heart beating wildly in his chest. Not a weight that had been learned, committed to muscle memory with time and determination, but one that was _meant_ for him. Even now, it felt like an extension of his arm, like a part of him. He tried a swing, then touched a hand to his chest in wonder.

The same determination he’d felt in the Realm of Darkness filled him, that fearlessness in the face of certain danger. The feeling flowed from him to the blade and back again, building up to a crescendo that sang through him like struck steel.

_Is this what you wanted?_ that song challenged. _Is this who you are?_

“Yes,” he murmured, unbent. And then, “I know who I am.”

He’d said as much to Ansem the Wise during his last dive. He heard the echo of his question now, however indirect, reverberating through his heart. ‘ _Young man,’_ he’d said. ‘ _I do not believe you ever told me your name._ ’

_“_ And you?” Riku asked, taking in all the grooves and edges of the blade, committing them to memory as they caught the light. “Who are you?”

_Braveheart._

He repeated the name to himself, feeling that lingering warmth flare inside of him in response- strengthened, not spent, by what it had forged. _Braveheart_. It was a good name. All the lessons he'd ever learned, everything he ever was, and everything he hoped to be- all of it was poured into this one blade. It had come from him. No wonder it felt so right in his hands.

A Master who made his own key. Riku smiled down at it, fond.

Braveheart would accompany him on this new path- Riku knew it like he knew his own name. And while he walked it, he’d use his strength and this keyblade to protect, just like he’d promised. As long as he did that, no darkness, no how powerful, could ever hope to break either of them.

_Let it try,_ Riku thought fiercely. He was well past dawn, and anchored to purpose now. He knew daylight now as well as he knew darkness. When the time came for them to step out to meet it together, they would, without any fear. He felt Braveheart hum in his right hand, as if in agreement.

Satisfied, Riku turned his eyes to the void above. He’d done what he’d come to do, and there was no point in lingering now. Even though it dragged at his heels, the abyss couldn’t hope to hold him. Mickey and Merlin were waiting, and so was the fight.

There would be many trials on the road ahead, but this one, at least, was done. Rising higher than he’d ever fallen, he held Braveheart aloft, summoning up a light to guide him home.

**Author's Note:**

> big old shout out to ann, marog, and rin [noctis voice] thanks for everything you guys are the best
> 
> had many Big Ideas for an upcoming zine, and so ended up with a couple extra works! here's one! ❤ sometimes you rly dig the high fantasy bs and end up using merlin as an excuse/framework for riku to sword in the stone himself and that's just how it is. beep your key fobs for Braveheart. I love that carkey.


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